Van Helsinki: Preparations
by nototter
Summary: Van Helsinki and Sophia prepare to go undercover after an arms dealer.


The day of the flight came, and Van turned up at the airport. He had briefly worried that Sophia wouldn't show, that she'd be too ill, too shook up, but right on time she was there too. Both of them were in suits, and Van felt almost naked without a weapon. He kicked his heels until the actual boarding time, then he and Sophia, or more properly he and 'Alex Tennant' boarded the flight. They made a little show of emotion and nuzzling, just to set the scene, and then Van, on the aisle, turned over and feigned sleep for a while to avoid any undue conversation. He briefly 'woke' to answer the waitress's offer of something to drink with a negative, then he returned to his semi-sleep, scanning the aisles for anything suspicious. Nothing emerged to him, and nudging Sophia, he leant back and actually slept. They'd take turns, just in case, but both spies wanted to be ready and awake when they landed. About five hours into the flight, Van was woken by 'Alex', and the two changed places, 'Alex' sleeping and Van keeping alert. By the time the flight landed, both were feeling refreshed and ready for anything. The two got off the plane, continuing the nuzzling, and then hired a taxi and went to their hotel. Mindful of his last mission, Van checked about the room, and indeed the floor, but everything seemed normal. Out the window was a balcony, and below that, within climbing distance, was another one, so Van's window jumping exploits would not be necessary in case of emergencies. Van began to unpack, waiting for the knock on the door. Two hours later, just as Van had cracked into the third of the X-Files episodes he had found under the hotel bed, that knock came. Sophia answered it, as Van took up position on the other side of the door, and inside bustled the resident agent in this area. Van recognised him, and he didn't want the conversation to take place in the hotel corridor, so it was inside the room, with the door shut, before Van ascertained the visitor's identity. The agent said little. He answered Van's curt questioning with the correct password, placed the two large suitcases he had brought up, in the guise of a porter, onto the table, and then left again without exchanging so much as six sentences with the spies. Van waited until his footfalls had receded, then opened the cases. They took everything out of the cases, and took stock on the bed just through the set of double doors, so that any casual chambermaid wouldn't immediately see then if she happened to wander inside the room.

Van immediately removed the CZ75 and holster from the bag, and, slipping off his suit, put it on, sliding the jacket over the top again. Sophia checked him for any place it might bulge out, but there was no such revealing mark. Van slipped the Makarov into one of his pockets, and the Baby Browning into his ankle holster. If Edward's men found one of the small weapons, they'd be less likely to assume he had another. And that other would be the one Van would use to kill him. Sophia went more simply. She had eschewed her usual USP for a smaller SIG-Sauer 230. This she tucked into her brassiere holster, or as Van had dubbed it, the B-slot. That was the backup plan if Van couldn't kill Edward. Both of them hoped it wouldn't be necessary.

Asides from their pistols, the obligatory microphones and transmitters and a veritable plethora of gadgets, equipment and simple practical items like torches, that wouldn't make sense inside the bags of a wealthy couple, stared up at them from the bed. Van pulled up the last pistol from the bag, a modified Beretta 92 with a scope and targeting system. He passed it over to Sophia.

"Yours, most likely." She took it and began looking for a place to store it, eventually settling on taping it under the side of the desk. Once the two had been through their armoury, twice, verbally, they began setting up their room for the work which would be done there. Van shifted the table around, where it could be kicked down to form a barrier in an emergency. Sophia checked the windows, both for escape routes and for potential locations for snipers. The two then sat down to wait. They had arranged a meeting with Edward de Furta at 4.00 that afternoon. While their jet-lag might be a disadvantage, the sooner they were done with Edward, the sooner they could get the hell out. And the less likely it would be that they would need their extra weapons, or their wits.

Of course, it didn't quite work out like that.


End file.
